


The Frye approach to romance

by MarxistMouse



Category: Assassin's Creed
Genre: Assassin's Creed: Syndicate, F/M, Humour, Jacob really could do with some help, Parody, Romantic Comedy, Victorian, Victorian Attitudes, probably not Clara though
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-08-28
Updated: 2015-09-11
Packaged: 2018-04-17 16:53:18
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 2,808
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4674266
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MarxistMouse/pseuds/MarxistMouse
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jacob needs advice, not that he's going to listen to it anyway. Despite where it comes from. Of course he's going to do things his way and treat you to his idea of romance.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Jacob talks to Evie

**Author's Note:**

  * For [](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts), [HunnyBop](https://archiveofourown.org/users/HunnyBop/gifts), [nightspark](https://archiveofourown.org/users/nightspark/gifts).



The man was a portrait of misery. Jacob Frye sat slumped at a window table in the George Inn with his head on his arms. The other patrons, after a few cursory glances, simply ignored him and went on their way. They were used to the tall dark man being a constant, oddball fixture in the pub.

"Jacob it's the middle of the afternoon. How is it possible you're drunk already?" Evie pulled out a chair and sat down with her usual grace, settling her caped coat around her.

The head jerked up abruptly "Evie, darling sister! How lovely to see you. I have in fact been waiting for you". The face lit with a smile that went all the way to his eyes. "I need your help". Evie's quick eyes noticed that there were indeed two tankards on the table and her brothers face had taken on the charming expression he adopted whenever he wanted something.

"Another body left in plain sight?" She sighed, counting the possibilities on her slender fingers "police officers need bribing? One of the Rooks broken an arm? A pile up on the Strand?"

"No. And I've no idea where this low opinion of me comes from" he glares with mock affrontery, drawing his brows together. "No. It dawned on me you're a woman and you must have an intrinsic understanding of what women want. How they think and so on". His hands do as much talking as he does, gesturing and punctuating his phrases.

Accustomed to eccentricity from her twin, Evie leans back in a chair and raises an eyebrow. "Women like sincerity and honesty. Couldn't you go to the Rooks for this?"

He waves off the idea with his gauntleted hand, almost knocking out an innocently passing waiter in the process. "Nah. They were useless. They actually suggested asking Henry for help. Can you imagine? He'd break my fingers if I asked him how to seduce a girl that's pretty much his little sister".

"Honesty and sincerity" Evie broke in before pushing her chair back and standing up. 

"That's it? That's the extent of your advice for your only brother?" Looking up at the slender form of his sister with incredulity.

"Just let her get to know you and the things you enjoy. Be yourself". Recognition alights in his eyes as if someone has switched on a lightbulb. 

"Fine. I will be myself" he slams a giant hand onto the table before getting up "I will take her drinking and then to a bare knuckle fight. You're a genius, Eves". Looking more animated than he had done for the last few hours he throws his cane up and catches it with a flourish. "It's all your fault if it goes wrong though", sang the rakish parting riposte as he leaves the George

Evies brows knit together as she watches her brother leave, confidence and energy personified. "On second thoughts, don't be yourself".


	2. Jacob talks to Clara

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Clara feels the need to give her opinion on matters.

Pulling the top hat back on as he strode through the door, Jacob's resolve had strengthened and he decided to get on with the task in hand before he changed his mind. Unfortunately, Clara had been lying in wait for him, clearly earwigging the exchange from under the window. "I want to help you" she burst out, frightening the hell out of him. He hadn't been prepared for a ball of energy to jump out at him somewhere around his knees and bit back an expletive.

"I like your lady friend. And you'll probably mess it up".

"What do you know about women?" Why was he even humouring the tiny imp? She was a born troublemaker with aspirations to be a meddling matchmaker. Henry kept her around for running errands and occasional spying which she seemed to relish. It had seemingly all gone to her head.

"More than you" she replied brightly

Sighing heavily he sat down on the step, next to her. Long legs stretched out and fingers linked over his cane. "Please, go on. Impart your wisdom". They made an odd pair of figures, the tiny black clad urchin and the tall assassin crouched together. 

"Wash your hair" the messenger stated firmly staring at his head.

"It's clean". He said with barely disguised irritation. He definitely thought it was clean enough. But come to think of it, when did he actually wash it last? She didn't seem to mind. Oh God what if she secretly thought he stank? 

"Properly. With soap. You have soap, don't you?" Clara's sharp voice cut through his racing thoughts as she continued to elaborate on her chosen theme. He fixed the child with a glare, hoping she would finish soon.

"No offence, Mr Jacob but It's always under a hat. You don't know, if it's clean or not. Or if it has lice in it…" there was no stopping her. She was like a jack russell with a rat in it jaws.

"Stop talking about my hair now Clara". He sighed. Maybe the child had a point. Definitely no lice though. An involuntarily shiver ran through him at the thought.

"It looks greasy. The bit that sticks out. There". She raised a grubby finger at the overlong strands that fell over his ears. "You should get it cut…"

"Let's move onto something else". He interrupted, taking his hat off to run fingers through the hair that Clara thought was so objectionable. She mulled over her topic thoughtfully, before replying. "Have a bath". Seriously, was his personal grooming that questionable. And why was the child so good at holding forth on an issue like a God damned politician.

"Anything else?" He asked with a fake smile stretching his face uncomfortably and feigned brightness in his voice.

"Wear a clean shirt. One that buttons all the way up. So she can't see how hairy you are. And maybe you could shave". She hadn't minded the stubble, seemed to like it in fact, but she could be lying. She was a good liar. 

"I'm going now, Clara". Jacob stood up, stretching his legs from being in the cramped position on the stoop and began to walk.  
He was on the verge of questioning his own sanity at humouring her. Obviously there was something wrong with him that he had let Clara O'Dea talk at him for several minutes. Worst of all, he was letting the 'advice' enter his head.

"Wait I have more" she ran after him breathlessly and carried on in the same vein. "Never say you look well. My mum says that means a lady looks fat". The woman in question was as slender as a rail so he was going to disregard that. Mrs O'Dea on the other hand was a larger, plumper version of her annoying daughter. There was some inherent logic in not telling her she looked 'well', he thought with a smirk.

"And don't believe her if she says she's fine. She's not really fine and most likely it's your fault". That made a modicum of sense at least. Evie had always huffed that she was fine when she was the complete opposite. He lengthened his stride as he carried on down the road.

After a short distance, Jacob felt himself begin to relax. He had finally lost the self proclaimed female expert. She must've gotten bored a few yards back. A short tug at his leg and a familiar Cockney voice reminded him his relief was misplaced "6 shillings".

"For what?" His tone was heavy with exasperation as he tried to pry the small fingers loose.

"For my advice. They say good advice is hard to find". Clara gave her version of a charming smile.

"I never said I was going to take it and besides it wasn't that good. Most of it was downright insulting". He was still reeling from the revelations that he was too hairy and needed a wash. He dug around in his trouser pockets for some loose change and handed it to her. It was a small price to pay to be left alone. 

"Only hurts cos it's true". She sang as she ran off in the opposite direction

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I forgot to mention FableWhites fic, which inspired my version of Clara and helped me develop a liking for her after finding her irritating in the trailer.


	3. Jacob talks to you

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jacob finally bites the bullet.

"Look I know, our……err……association started in a somewhat unconventional manner but I'd ……err……like to……err……court you. Properly"

"What?" Your mind had been on the paperwork sent by the order and you had spent the last few hours hunched over the desk decoding the instructions. Frye's burst through the door and ensuing verbal onslaught had interrupted you at a crucial point.

You stared back at him, with a mix of annoyance and tiredness. He looked manic, fidgety like he had been psyching himself up to make this speech for several hours. And seemingly drinking quite a bit in the process. "What?"

He looked down at his feet with his hands shoved into his pockets. Face flaming, he began again. "Go out with me?" It came out as an incoherent mumble but you caught it. Just about.

The confusion on your face was impossible to hide, what on Earth was he doing? "Come again?" You repeated just to fill the awful mile wide silences echoing around Henry's office.

"Knew this wouldn't work. Bloody Evie. Bloody pint sized nuisance" he reeled round in a spin of black leather and muttering, trying to make an escape.

Had he asked Clara for advice on this, whatever it was. He must be desperate. Worn down by hours of paperwork you decided to take pity on him."Can you come back in an hour or so ? Give me a chance to finish here?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter flips back to the readers perspective. From here on the story will alternate between the second and third person
> 
> Thank you for all the comments and kudos too xxx
> 
> if anyone has any advice for Jacob please feel free to add it ;-)


	4. Clara finds Jacob

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There really is no escape from Clara…

"Did it work?" Jacob had been trying to fill the allotted hour with something useful and had been attempting to tidy the cellar under Henry's pub. He had finally taken a short break and was sat atop an empty barrel when his peace was shattered by a familiar, shrill voice.

"You didn't listen to me!" The tiny face was furious and the tone accusing. "You asked for advice and you didn't take it!". Damn the spy, she must have followed him here. Was nowhere safe? 

"Yes. Does that mean I can have my money back?" He closed his eyes and lounged back with a smile colouring his voice.

"I don't think you're taking this seriously enough". She persisted. "Well unlike you, I haven't been sat idle". Jacob raised a dark eyebrow sardonically in response as she continued "……And I stole……I mean, I acquired this from Henry's study" she proudly brandished a slim, leather bound volume under Fryes nose. "It's about how a gentleman should comport himself amongst ladies".

"I…comport…myself perfectly well, Clara". Well his manners were a bit rough and did leave a little to be desired but who cared really? And he certainly wasn't about to be lectured by an uppity pixie with a book. 

Clara pulled herself up onto an adjacent barrel with a huff and began to flip through the book, reading in a clear, slightly faltering voice. "A gentleman never sits in the house with his hat on in the presence of ladies for a single moment". Clara eyed his head suspiciously, where the offensive top hat was still in place.

"People who sit in the house with their hats on are to be suspected of having spent most of their time in bar rooms and similar places". He smirked, that was probably true. And he did take off his hat when taking down a target. If nothing else, he at least assassinated like a gentleman.

After a few short minutes of blissful silence, Clara had found her favourite theme."There's some more in here about washing too. Upon arising, take a complete bath, The head should be washed occasionally with soap and water. See, I knew I was right!" She grinned triumphantly.

"No more about my cleanliness, Clara!" He thundered. "And give me that". His annoyance wasn't just reserved for the tiny tormentor. He was going to kill Evie for teaching Clara to read in the first place. He leaned over, snatching the book out of her outraged hands. and flicking through it, whilst striding around.

He started reading aloud, scowling, whilst his voice resonated around the cellar. "It is a great thing to be able to walk like a gentleman, that is, to get rid of that awkward, lounging, swinging gait of a clown and stop before you reach the affected and flippant step of the dandy". He stopped abruptly, incredulous at the offensive paperback. His twin had said that he loping walk of an ape so many times.

"In short, nothing but being a gentleman can give you the air and step of one. This book is the work of the devil, Clara". It reinforced everything he felt about the unfairness of society and the disparity between classes. Obsessions with superficiality and appearance. He threw it across the room with loathing, eyeing it as it hit the brick wall with a thud. There was absolutely no way in hell, he'd be heeding anything in it. 

The urchin took in a sharp breath before jumping down from her seat. "Evie says you should treat books with respect!" Fixing him with a disapproving look she'd clearly picked up off his sister. "I am very disappointed in you". 

He stared back bemused by her angry expression and sighed. Clearly he had gone too far and he did have a misguided fondness for the irritatingly enthusiastic child. "I'm very sorry". He picked her up and put her back on the barrel. "I'll go get the poor book and you can carry on reading and tell me what else is wrong with me".

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I had a lot of fun researching Victorian social etiquette for this chapter. On the whole it is appropriate to the time period of syndicate.


	5. oddness

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jacob Frye attempts to behave in a more gentlemanly way with limited success.

You were just about ready to finish. All that was left was to hand over the the correspondence to Henry before excusing yourself. He was sat amongst his patrons at a side table, unobtrusive despite the Indian robes he always wore, and you picked your way over to him. "Finished those communiques for you" you said as you sat down opposite him, pulling the papers out of your inside pocket

He nodded briefly in acknowledgement but his black brows were knitted in response to a loud commotion from the storage area behind the bar. Straining your ears further you could make out two distinctive voices, a sharp high pitched cockney one and an unmistakable baritone. 

"I washed, YESTERDAY, Clara. For God's sake…". 

"But it smells!"

You rolled your eyes, repressing a smile at the interesting sounding exchange and looked over to Henry. Clearly, a veteran of such oddness he simply pinched the bridge of his nose and took a deep exhale as Frye and the messenger Clara emerged from their lair in a fit of temper. 

"I'll be outside" Frye said through a clenched jaw as he strode past the table. Clara ran after him breathlessly, trying to match his long strides.

"Clara, what are you and Mr Frye up to? And is it necessary for whatever it is to be so loud?" Henry had the world's most expressive eyes and they seemed to convey exaperation, frustration and sheer annoyance simultaneously. Clara simply gave a noncommittal shrug in response.

"Do you have any idea what they've been doing?" You said tonelessly as the messenger scampered after the assassin, following the movement with your eyes.

"I try not to ask. There are some things it's better not to know". 

"If that's all bhai, I'll take my leave now". Standing up, you brushed your fingers over the braided hair you had pulled over one shoulder and walked out of the doors after being waved away by Henry. Several of the Rooks had congregated in the interim and were milling about near their boss.

"Hat" came a sharp hiss from near Jacob's knees, followed by a sharper kick to his ankle. . Barely flinching at the reprimand from the pixie like girl, he abruptly ripped the hat off his head and thrust it violently at an unsuspecting Rook.

"So you've been busy?" You fumbled for something to say whilst taking in the bizarre spectacle with a quizzical expression. Jacob Frye running his fingers through his messy dark hair looking sheepish and Clara O'Dea scowling next to him with her arms crossed. And poor Matthews, the Rook that was doubled over, panting, clutching the hat that had been shoved at him with no warning and an unexpected amount of force.

"You look……" Frye began and broke off with a vacant, confused look as if mentally cycling through several possibilities. None of which were right. You leant in slightly, willing him to get to his point faster.

"……well". He concluded lamely, before dropping his face into gloved hands.

"Well?" You echoed in disbelief as Clara aimed another kick at his ankle. Jacob Frye was notoriously voluble and given to speech making, was that seriously the best word he could come up with?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As promised SilverMoon45, here's the next chapter.
> 
> Hope you all enjoy it. Thank you for the kudos, comments and hits. Xx

**Author's Note:**

> As soon as I finished writing the first bit of "hat", this idea popped into my head. This is a bit more romantic comedy than "hat", which is a bit naughtier. Same reader character again (sorrynotsorry)
> 
> It's a little like Brass Knuckles by Bells and Roses. Thank you Aquila and Moonlit for talking though my ideas. Gifted to you three xxx.
> 
> I apologise for spamming the readers here with stories but they keep coming. (Again sorrynotsorry) :)


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